


Blue

by APHands



Category: Life with Derek
Genre: Drabble, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:34:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29266563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APHands/pseuds/APHands
Summary: Short drabble. Derek remembers the dance.
Relationships: Casey McDonald/Derek Venturi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

> First thing I've ever posted here, not a super confident writer. I have a lot of ideas I just can't seem to get them out. But I think I'm gonna start, because there's plots I want to read that I can't find. So blah I don't know I guess thanks if you read? Literally its so short and I hate short.

He remembered that dance like it was yesterday. He remembered the rushed practices, the frustration because he knew he couldn't dance like she wanted him to, the familiar thrill of winning. Those were the safe memories, the ones that he could potentially mention out loud if it was brought up in conversation, only with close friends. If there's anything he learned from his years with his grade grubbing, keener step-sister, it's that compartmentalization is key. So he separates the different memories of the same event into safe and not safe boxes. 

The not safe box only opens every now and again, mostly to stuff more into it, very rarely to reminisce. But he's never been one to dwell on what could be. There's no point, after all, in pining after someone who doesn't want him, _couldn't_ want him. 

Sometimes he dreams of her, though. The blue ombre dress that showed _so much_ leg. The way she grabbed his hip as she leaned back on his hand, stretching her very bare leg out in front of her. The way she felt pressed tightly to the front of him, arm around her waist as he lifted and spun her. In his dreams, it's different though. They aren't dancing for some competition on television. They are alone, he without his zombie make up, and she barefoot. He dreams of the smell of morning dew, vanilla, and cinnamon. He dreams of never letting go of her waist, keeping her pressed tightly to him. He dreams of her face in his hand, cheek cupped, thumb lightly caressing. But mostly he dreams of a memory of a moment, a small moment lasting a fraction of a second, from their dance; the way she looked at him, a mixture of desire and laughter in her eyes. 

He could never forget her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think? I'm super awkward, ugh. I love Dasey, have since I first watched the show. Of course back then I had a flip phone and no internet access so I'm very quickly getting back into it. Definitely one of my OTPs before I even knew what an OTP was. So yeah. Just let me know what you think please? I know its not much to go on, but I'm testing the waters, somewhat? Gah I'm awkward.


End file.
